


Bitter Strawberries

by Saradactyl



Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Despaircest, During Canon, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, Just to be safe, Makeup, Making Out, Mild Sexual Content, Rated M because Junko exists, Sibling Incest, Unhealthy Relationships, mention of teacher-student relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:02:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29835732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saradactyl/pseuds/Saradactyl
Summary: "I don't need to hear it fromyoubut, yes, I'm pretty good with makeup." Ikusaba could see her smile warp into a gibing sneer. "Not that I expect you toremember."[Ikusaba bonds with her sister with makeup and frivolous conversation.]
Relationships: Enoshima Junko/Ikusaba Mukuro
Comments: 17
Kudos: 11





	Bitter Strawberries

**Author's Note:**

> With the days I've been writing this, really didn't expect it to be this short.   
> I don't have a good grasp on the despair sisters' relationship and I don't really write them often so this is my first _real_ attempt at them. 
> 
> The inspiration came from a lot of older fics where Junko dressing and doing Mukuro's makeup seemed to be a trend and I didn't want to bore myself with writing the same ships over and over again so this is the outcome.

Plaid cotton brushes against Ikusaba’s pale legs much less than they should have, much less than she was used to. She doesn’t shift, she doesn’t budge, and she doesn’t stare directly into her sister’s eyes as she bats the blender across the smears of foundation across her face. It’s a fleshy peach, more closer to Enoshima’s skin tone than her own — she spent enough time up north that it had sapped all color of her, not that it made any difference to the situation.

She’s much more firm around where faded freckles scattered across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, paying no mind when Ikusaba’s shoulders hunched a shade forward when Enohsima pressed over the tender skin in between her eyes. “How sickly  _ white,  _ Mukuro –,” she digs her nails into the underside of her jaw, pursing her red  _ red _ lips in concentration “– and these freckles are so  _ jarring _ . How have they not faded the months you were away?” 

Ikusaba keeps her mouth shut, for the better when Enoshima runs her acrylics across the bottom of her lip before flipping open her makeup case and shuffling through the varying brush sizes and palettes and clashing colors of lipstick. “Ugly,  _ ugly _ , u-gu- _ ly _ ! Ugh, what a piece of work.” She grips her chin and snaps it to the side, revealing all the blemishes and imperfections to the light that makes Ikusaba just ugly  _ ugly _ u-gu- _ ly _ . "But we have no time! Not that it would do you any good."

They would have to reshape her face, contour her bone structure and make it fit to embody the face of Enoshima Junko. They would have to pluck out those dead fish eyes, replace them with something more  _ lively _ — more alive. And she mentions it, saying "What should we do about those eyes of yours? They're gross to look at, you know?" And Ikusaba  _ does _ know, she doesn't move her lips to say it as her sister determines which shade would suit them best. "If we had time, but we don't. We don't. We  _ don't _ !"

"No, we don't." 

"Shut up, I just said that." 

She goes for a light pink, making Ikusaba form her lips into an  _ o _ while she brushes a ring of color over them. Enoshima graces her by adding a bit of lip gloss for a shimmer, the artificial taste of tart strawberries hitting her teeth on more instances than one. She can recall on multiple occasions where the flavor would seep onto her tongue when Enoshima would push her mouth against hers in the quiet nook of their shared bedroom. Ikusaba presses her lips together, spreading the gloss generously whilst her sister swings her legs over the bench and pulls at the strap of her duffel bag. "I have a surprise for you, Mukuro! Well, it's used but it didn't do much for  _ me _ so it could possibly do something for  _ you _ ." Her sister was just so  _ so _ generous.

It does nothing to surprise Ikusaba when her sister pulls out a pair of less-than-decent undergarments, black and red — just like  _ her.  _ "I got these for a special meeting but things didn't work out." She lays the underwear neatly to the side, displaying the intricate floral patterns that decorated the sheer cloth. "The headmaster was pretty eager to shut me down on my  _ offer _ . But he was  _ totally _ missing out! Right, Mukuro?"

Mukuro nods, the main thought resting in her mind is getting the terrible taste out of her mouth. "Yes, he doesn't know what he's missing."

"You could say that with more  _ enthusiasm _ , you fucking  _ robot _ ." Enoshima huffs and turns her attention back to the choices for eyeshadow — Ikusaba dreads her sister poking at her eyes. “But Kirigiri Jin… do you know why he probably didn’t accept my offer because –” She lathers the top of an eye blender brush with a cloud of rosy dust and dredges the crease of her sister’s eyelid. Her fingers push around the bulge where her eye was under the skin, nails borderline close to poking it out and  _ really  _ replacing it with something  _ suitable  _ to represent the better twin of the two. “– who can’t, really?”

“Maybe because we were in the same class as his daughter. It would make him feel guilty to be with someone your age.” 

Enoshima frowns at that. “I’m too young?” And Ikusaba would’ve said yes if it wasn’t for everything they already knew about what went down in this school. As quick as the lour painted her face, a grin appears shortly after and she laughs. “No no  _ no  _ Mukuro. That can’t be the reason.”

And she indulges her. “Why?”

“Because you know what he used to do. He was into the  _ innocent _ ones, I guess.” It should sicken Ikusaba how aware her sister was of what she continues to do, there was no space to give her the benefit of the doubt and she wears it with  _ pride _ . And Ikusaba lets her. “I saw the same reserve course student walk into his office every week but he just didn’t seem to appreciate someone of better taste. Even got the nice, expensive pair but  _ ugh _ , what a waste!"

_ What a piece of work! What a waste! _

"What if he did accept? What would you do then?"

"Simple," she grins and dabbles some light powder across the side of her face. "He's taking advantage of a  _ minor _ . How  _ dreadful! _ " Her voice mocked the despair of an elderly woman, her expression in no way portraying what her tone did. Ikusaba could fill in the blanks, already seeing the red lights and sirens blaring. Though, she and Enoshima both knew that one bullet to the head would've done just fine if he  _ did  _ try something. 

So it was left for Ikusaba to wear, not that she  _ minds _ . Any gift her sister gives her is one to take to heart. It would fit the ensemble better, to wear something that Enoshima had  _ already _ worn. "I'll wear them, Junko."

"Of course you will, they would make this whole  _ shtick– _ " she waves her hands up and down towards the raiment adorning Ikusaba: the polka-dot tie, the high-heeled boots, the red  _ red  _ nails "–somewhat more believable. Though, you're not planning on showing them off to anyone while you're out there, yeah? That would make me pretty upset." She sneers, then pouts, then giggles again.

"Of course not." 

"Mm, I know." She gets up and goes to the mannequin head sitting by the mirror, strawberry blonde pigtails dressing the scalp of it. The bow sits beside it, as does the bunny pin. They didn't gather all the material necessary to perfectly replicate Enoshima, as nothing really could, so they made do with what they  _ did _ gather. Pulling back her sister's hair and covering it with the wig, there was a playful hum that left her lips. "That's why I  _ love  _ you. You’re a darling!”

She mouths an  _ “I love you, too” _ — pure instinct, but she really does love Enoshima. She  _ has  _ to and she wants to. 

Enoshima steps back and reaches for a thin pen, uncapping it and waving it at face level. "Look at me." Ikusaba does as told, gazing at nothing in particular while her sister lined her eyelid with a liquid eyeliner, straining herself to continue looking without blinking. It's not a hard task to do, considering her focus as a sniper consisted of minimal blinking in case she would miss her target. It was easier then — Enoshima isn't a target. She also seemed to move her hand far slower than necessary, almost making her sister sure that the makeup would leak into her eye if she continued at the pace she’s going at.

"Haha, you look like you're about to cry, Mukuro!" Enoshima moves the pen away after what felt like more than just a few minutes. "Beauty is  _ pain _ but surely you're not going to sob over it."

Lifting a hand to fan herself, Ikusaba regains her composure and nods. She did  _ not  _ want to have to do this again. "No, that would be unreasonable."

"Hm… you're a bit boring sometimes. Ah, well." She grips Ikusaba’s shoulders and kicks at her legs hard enough that she gets the message and positions herself to look in the mirror. There was not much done to cover her freckles, nor does she have that pep that Enoshima has as she gazes at her sister affectionately through the reflection. "What do you think?"

She glances up at Enoshima, her sister's eyes twinkling with envisage as she comes up with the words. "Looks great," came tumbling out of her mouth, there was nothing else to say. "You've gotten very good at this."

"I don't need to hear it from  _ you _ but, yes, I'm pretty good with makeup." Ikusaba could see her smile warp into a gibing sneer. "Not that I expect you to  _ remember _ ."

She blinks, her  _ dead fish eyes _ continuing to stare. "I'm sorry? What does that mean, Junko?"

"You  _ should _ be sorry.” Her fingers tangle in the strands of the wig and she tugs, not enough to pull it off but enough that Ikusaba tilts her head back. “It was so lonely without you.”

Ikusaba really can’t read her sister anymore. With everything she  _ knows _ , she shouldn’t accept her words as easily as she does. No one should, not with Enoshima. Lies spill from her sugar-coated lips so often that it was so  _ easy  _ to either shun her or accept everything she says as truth.

“I’m sorry.” She chooses the latter, even when it’s clear she shouldn’t.

“You  _ said _ that already.” 

Her voice falters at the end of her sentence — that  _ falter  _ is the only reason Ikusaba is still here. She cuts Ikusaba off by pressing their mouths together, disorganized and filthy, but it wasn’t like she was going to bring it up to begin with.

Enoshima grabs her hair, wig and all, and pushes her head down hard and fast enough against the surface of the vanity that bottles topple over the side. She  _ moans _ .

Not because she  _ likes  _ it.

They pull away with lipstick smudges reaching the sides of their faces, lips pressing longer due to the sticky residue of the lipgloss keeping them together. The younger of the two looks down and sighs. “But there’s nowhere else for you to go, anyways. It’s the end of the world!”

She hops off of Ikusaba and reaches for a makeup wipe, wiping her own face down from the mess they both made. Ikusaba tastes the strawberries on her tongue.

A wipe hits her face.

“Next time don’t make such a  _ mess _ , Mukuro  _ dear _ . We only have so much time to spare, everyone will be waking up soon!”

**Author's Note:**

> It was very impulsive to add that Hinata cameo in there, I just can't do without him. So was the headmaster, he didn't need to be there but--
> 
> Again, have no clue if I wrote these two right but the twins really do bring despair, their relationship is in no way a good one. Maybe at one point, they could've actually bonded but that's debatable in certain circumstances.


End file.
